


You, Too

by hauntedjaeger (saellys)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Bisexual Character, Developing Relationship, Especially Mako, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, The Drift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 18:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14118102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saellys/pseuds/hauntedjaeger
Summary: Jules looks amazing in one of Nate’s shirts, and Nate isn’t wearing a shirt at all, and probably shouldn’t be doing pushups right now. Can he take a day off, ever? “Hey,” Jules says, because apparently she was watching Jake sleep, and as soon as she isn’t watching him he’s going to check for pillow drool. Her hair is down and she’s basically radiant. “You want some coffee?”“Yeah,” he rasps, sitting up. He has a top five hangover because everyone kept pouring shots for both him and Amara, and the kid just smirked behind her chocolate milk as he knocked them back. He lost count and finally begged off, staggering away from a celebration that would last all night. Now he takes the cup Jules offers, and breathes in the steam. Coffee is going to solve all of his problems. Every single one.He drinks half the cup and does not look at Jules’s calves or Nate’s forearms.





	You, Too

Thirteen hours after saving the world, Jake hears a hatch close. It’s not enough to rouse him entirely; the bunk is too comfortable for that. 

“That’s just like him,” Nate mutters, “always passing out before the party’s over.” 

“In  _ your _ quarters?” says Jules. 

“He got lost.” 

“Did he now.” One or the other of them puts a blanket over him, and Jake lets out a sigh, and forgets why he came here. 

He wakes again later, to the smell of coffee, and that is enough to open his eyes. Jules looks amazing in one of Nate’s shirts, and Nate isn’t wearing a shirt at all, and probably shouldn’t be doing pushups right now. Can he take a day off, ever? “Hey,” Jules says, because apparently she was watching Jake sleep, and as soon as she isn’t watching him he’s going to check for pillow drool. Her hair is down and she’s basically radiant. “You want some coffee?” 

“Yeah,” he rasps, sitting up. He has a top five hangover because everyone kept pouring shots for both him and Amara, and the kid just smirked behind her chocolate milk as he knocked them back. He lost count and finally begged off, staggering away from a celebration that would last all night. Now he takes the cup Jules offers, and breathes in the steam. Coffee is going to solve all of his problems. Every single one. 

He drinks half the cup and does not look at Jules’s calves or Nate’s forearms. 

“Thanks for taking the extra bunk,” Nate says when he finishes pushup number five hundred and towels off. “It’s been lonely in here without Burke around.” 

Jake doubts that very much. “I was already half asleep when I realized you’d be in Medical.” 

“They let me out about two a.m., but I figured you were still in the canteen.” 

“So is this your morning routine?” Jake asks. “Coffee and pushups? It’s cute. It’s real domestic.” 

“This is our morning routine when drunk rangers show up in the night,” says Jules. 

At the look on Jake’s face, Nate warns, “Cut it out.”

He’s right. Enough circling. Jake jumps. “Look man, I do need you, okay?” 

Nate eyes him for three breaths, then gets up and comes over to him. He leans down, puts his hand on the side of Jake’s neck, and looks him in the eyes. “Okay,” he says, and kisses him. 

It’s good. It solves a lot more problems than the coffee did. When it’s done Jake takes a moment to gather himself, and then glances at Jules. “I’m also really into you,” he says. 

Her answering smile is soft and a little wry. She thinks it isn’t the same, and Jake hates how easy the Drift makes it, hates that he might never have the words. When she arrived at Moyulan in 2029 and Nate was still J-Tech himself for want of a copilot, he offered her a gantry tour, thinking himself the smoothest thing ever to escape Iowa, and she pried her gaze away from a half-finished Bracer Phoenix just long enough to look him over and say no thanks, and now Jake has that memory in his head, along with the cold pit of  _ nice job, she hates you _ . 

Jules gets up. She puts her fingers in Nate’s hair and her other hand on Jake’s cheek, where she kissed him a day ago, and Jake has seen her freckles up close through Nate’s memories, but they are stunning now. “I need you two—“ Jake’s breath catches—“to not call each other ‘brother’,” she says. 

“That’s fair.” He looks to Nate. “Ranger.”

“Ranger,” Nate replies at once, clipped and professional, and Jules swats his shoulder. 

“Do you know how much he loves you?” Jake says. 

“Yes,” she says, “because we talk about it, like a healthy couple.” 

“Sorry for bringing in my baggage, then.” 

“Relax,” says Jules, “we’ve got room.” And she kisses him. Jake is still holding his coffee, but he frees a hand to settle on her waist, and she climbs forward into his lap, and beside them Nate takes a careful breath in and lets it out of his nose, and then he takes Jake’s coffee away and returns presently to put his lips and teeth and tongue beneath Jake’s jaw. 

It was 2031 before Jules asked Nate out. He figured it was because they’d just spooled up Lady Avenger for the first time that day and he’d had a successful range exercise with Burke, and everyone thinks Jaeger jockeys are sexy. (He was wrong. During the two years they worked together, she warmed to his obsession with tactics and the way he squinted when trying to untangle fiberoptic strands, while he silently pined over her sense of humor and wished she would look at him the way she looked at Jaegers.) 

He was riding the high of piloting and she was distributing a crate of strawberries her folks sent over, which, for a bunch of kids who grew up on rationing, seemed very much like Christmas. She handed him one and said, “Do you want to get a drink later?” and Nate bit into it and pretended to deliberate as he chewed, because if he tried to answer right away his voice would crack from happiness. 

That’s how full Jake feels as the two of them get him down to the mattress. He’s going to burst. Jules’s lips are still on Jake’s but Nate is moving down now, shoving Jake’s shirt out of the way and sliding a hand into his drawers and if that man’s mouth does what Jake thinks it’s going to do, he will not last thirty seconds-- 

Nate’s alarm goes off. 

“What the hell,” Jake says. 

“0700,” Nate answers, ungodly cheerful as he pulls away. Jake makes a grab for him and misses. “Time to hit the showers. The simulator awaits.” 

“No, no, we just saved the world yesterday. We get a day in bed.” 

“That’s a nice idea, but it’s not how Marshal Mori wants to run things around here.” 

“Oh, she briefed you while you were both in Medical?” 

Nate disappears into the head. “That’s right, ranger.” 

Jake turns to Jules, who seems appropriately reluctant to go, and he does the puppy eyes. “Jules, you can stay?” 

“I’m on Saber Athena today.” She kisses Jake’s brow and then climbs over him. “Give the nuggets hell.” 

But Jake leans on the console outside the Mock-Pod and is utterly useless all morning, even when he’s supposed to nod at the soldiery things Nate says. He barely looks up when Amara and Malikova, of all people, bag a cat-4 and come out of the simulator whooping and giving each other hugs that look more like headlocks. He sulks through lunch and snaps at three cadets in the Kwoon, and Nate doesn’t even blink. Jake overhears Suresh mumble something from the sidelines about Bad Cop and Worse Cop. 

He speedruns an official report on Tokyo and delivers it to Mako in the infirmary, but she’s busy talking something through with Gottlieb so he just squeezes her hand and makes for the showers.

Jules is in Nate’s room when Jake arrives, and Nate is not. He joins her at the desk and she sets down her tablet and stands to face him. “Hey,” she says, and Jake melts into her kiss. She’s showered too, but she still smells a little like an engine, and there’s a trace of ozone from proximity to a Plasmacaster. 

When they pull away Jake says, “Sorry, you’ve got some grease--” and then loses his train of thought because Jules turns her face toward his touch like a flower following the sun. “How… how was your day?” 

“Frustrating,” Jules says, and Jake wants to tell her she has no idea, but he stays quiet. “Guess how many undamaged facilities can manufacture the housing for N-16 particle chargers?” 

It’s strangely grounding to run through his mental list of component fabricators, even if it’s ten years out of date. “Zero?” Jules raises her brows, and Jake understands. “And it didn’t help that we trashed Severnaya Zemlya.” She grimaces in confirmation. “I can make that up to you.” 

“I’m listening,” Jules says. 

He runs his thumb over her cheek. “I mean, I can’t get you niobium-titanium alloy, but I can put you in a much more  _ serene _ state of mind and then, when we’ve slept on it, we can go at the problem fresh. It’s amazing what a few hours in bed will do for creative, out-of-the-box thinking, you know?” 

She smiles, and he could absolutely fall into it. “That sounds nice, but I’m pretty sore.” 

“You’re sore,” Jake echoes, moving his hands to her lovely shoulders. “I can’t even imagine. I never did J-Tech until the refit the other day.” 

“Long hours,” she sighs as his fingers work. He resists the urge to treat her delicately; she’s strong and can take more pressure. “Heavy lifting.” She sways a little, in time with him. Her eyelids flutter closed and he wants to kiss them. “Cramped spaces.” The straps of her tank top are in the way. He moves one, and realizes she isn’t wearing a bra, and his face burns. “Lives on the line.” She opens her eyes and looks into his, and Jake stops moving--stops breathing. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”  

The hatch swings open and, very quickly, shut again, and Nate says, “At least you’re still dressed.” Then he is at Jake’s back, arms around him to tug Jules by the waistband until they’re all flush, and yes, Jake wouldn’t change a thing either. This is exactly where he wants to be, and already better than any of the mental images that plagued him all day. He lets out a shaky breath. 

“We really got you pent up,” says Jules. 

Jake tries to focus on undoing her hair tie, but Nate’s hips fit just right behind him and it takes all his willpower not to grind backward. “Yeah, you did. And  _ he _ proceeded to look like a snack for the rest of the day.” 

Nate’s teeth close gently over the shell of Jake’s ear. “Which makes you the meal,” says Jules, bringing her arms up to rest on Jake’s shoulders as he gets her hair loose, “and me dessert?” 

“Mmm,” Jake says approvingly. He can feel her heartbeat against his. 

“I’m not waiting that long to eat you out,” Nate tells her, and against Jake’s hands her skin grows very warm, and she grasps Nate’s collar and pulls them both toward the bunk. “You should get undressed,” Nate says when they bump into the mattress. 

“You planning to make me?” Jake shoots back. 

Jules is already pulling her tank over her head. “Chickening out, Pentecost?”

Jake gives her a betrayed look and steps aside to unbuckle his belt. When he looks back Nate has her pants down, and Jules leans back on her elbows. “Make yourself comfortable,” Nate tells Jake, and then presses his mouth between Jules’s legs. 

For the first couple of minutes all Jake can do is look back and forth from Jules to Nate, her open expression and the strain in his jaw and neck, the sounds she makes, the way his ribs move under the gauze, her calves over his shoulders. But then Jules locks her gaze on him, and Jake has never stripped so fast. He stretches out beside her on the bunk, and doesn’t touch her. Not yet. 

Nate, however, sees his opportunity and damn well takes it, moving one hand from Jules’s hip to Jake’s cock. Jake groans and flops back on the bunk. 

One of those things they’ve never talked about is the fact that they know exactly how to get each other off, even though Nate’s hand feels very different from Jake’s. Jake lets himself float away in his rough, warm grasp for a while, until Jules reaches for him, and then he rises from the mattress just enough to kiss her. She comes, arching, her cry caught in his mouth, and he can’t help the pride he feels. 

He isn’t far behind, and once Jules makes it through a couple aftershocks, Nate lifts his head and moves half a meter to the left, and closes his wet lips over the head of Jake’s cock, and Jake sighs, “Shit.” 

He’s fully in the grip of Nate’s enthusiasm, and then Jules shifts beside him, her hand traveling down Jake’s side and her lips at his ear. Her fingers lift away and almost at once, Nate’s breath starts to gust harder and faster against Jake’s belly and he’s taking him in deeper, and Jake opens his eyes just enough to see Jules tangling her fingers in Nate’s hair to keep him down, and that does it for him. 

He’s lost for a long time. When he comes back Nate is smugly wiping his mouth, and Jules is curled up catlike beside Jake. “You know what you are?” Jake says. “An insufferable overachiever.” 

“Hell yeah,” Nate says, and leans down to kiss him. Jake tastes himself and Jules alike. 

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about all day?” 

“I’ve been thinking about that for ten years,” Nate tells him, and Jake struggles to keep his breath even. 

What can he do but take it as a challenge? He stands, against his better judgment and the complaints of a body that would really like some afterglow just now. “How about this?” he says, and yanks at Nate’s belt, untucks his shirt, shoves his boxers down. He’s barely touched the length of him when Nate grabs him and covers Jake’s mouth with his. 

A moment later he releases Jake and steps away. “Don’t go anywhere,” he says, and for once Jake wants to listen. Nate takes off the rest of his clothes on his way to the desk, and comes back with a foil package in one hand and a bottle in the other. Jake has a ways to go before he can get hard again, so he sets his jaw to keep himself from smiling, and turns around. 

Jules watches him with those deep eyes, and Jake wonders how much love a single human mind can hold. He has Nate’s and his own, and all the history he hasn’t lived. He carries the way Nate felt about him in the beginning ( _ don’t blow it don’t blow it you’re Drifting with a Pentecost _ ) and the way he felt when Jake came back ( _ damn him, he still feels like home _ ). He carries the way Nate turned  _ don’t go anywhere _ into a prayer when Jules arrived in his life. The Drift makes it so easy, but now, looking at Jules, he has no trouble seeing how she feels. 

She gets up on her knees on the bunk and moves forward until she’s bracing him, her hands carded into his hair, Jake’s arms over her shoulders. Nate runs his knuckles down Jake’s back, over his ass, and settles with his hand splayed on Jake’s thigh, not clutching, but wanting to. “Okay?” he checks. 

“Yeah,” says Jake, and then glances back over his shoulder and tries, “babe.” 

Nate’s mouth twists. “I’ll have to get used to that.” 

They stay on the edge of something for a few more breaths, touching but suspended, and then Nate takes his hand away and Jake hears the foil tear. The liquid from the bottle is cold at first, but Nate’s fingers are warm and they knead at Jake until he’s ready. Nate positions himself and then waits, his breath warming Jake’s cheek, until Jake nods once. 

Nate eases forward. Jake lets all the air out of his lungs. Jules holds him tight. It’s good. It’s better than good. It’s a roar in his ears that he never wants to go away. He rolls his hips in the middle of Nate’s thrust, and Nate groans and goes faster. Jake lowers his head to Jules’s shoulder. “Are you good?” she whispers over the roar, one hand running down his spine. 

He’s amazing, but all that comes out when he tries to say it is a pathetic sound. 

Jules hums a little. “We’re really glad you’re here, Jake. I’m glad.” Nate’s rhythm stutters, but then he picks up again like nothing happened. 

“Are you?” Jake manages. 

Jules’s hair swishes as she nods. “Nate never gets to top otherwise.” 

Jake holds his breath; he tried to respectfully disregard those Drift memories. Nate swears and shudders, his fingers digging into Jake’s hips. Jake summons the strength to tense up one more time, and Nate sighs when he comes, relaxing against his back. 

“How many kids do you guys want?” Jake says with his lips on Jules’s throat. He feels more than hears her laugh. “You given any thought to names yet? I like Luna, personally.”

“Save it,” Nate advises, pulling out of him carefully. He kisses the back of Jake’s neck. “I’m setting the alarm. How much sleep do you want before we go again? Three hours?”

Jake untangles from Jules to stare at him. “Who are you, man? You’re really going to get up at 0700 after an all-night sexathon? I’ll start a collection for your jaw transplant.”

Nate beams at him. “The marshal gave us all tomorrow off. Babe.”

Oh, but he owes Mako. He owes her so much. He turns back to Jules. “Two hours,” he says, and kisses her, chaste, despite their nakedness and what they all just did together.

“Got something to prove?” Nate says, but he sets the alarm anyway. 

Jake grins. He doesn’t. Not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank Vongchild for reading this over, and Pacific Rim: Uprising for bisexual Jake Pentecost and this giftwrapped OT3.


End file.
